The Unyielding Heart
by farmey
Summary: Lloyd's Exsphere journey was a huge failure; people had become so used to their power that they would never even dare to give them up. More than the physical and mental toll on him, the journey took away the one he had cared for the most... Or did it? LxC
1. She Who is a Ghost

Namco owns Tales of Symphonia, its characters, settings, etc. I'm only responsible for the (bad) plot and (even worse) story.

The snow bit through his thick boots, all the way through his weakened muscles to his quivering bones. Every step he took, the chill chomped a little bit more away at him, eating away at his very being. The wind howled all around him, as if rending his eardrums, replacing them with the same filmy sheets of ice that coated the ground he walked on. He wouldn't be surprised if he'd soon turn as pale and blue as the world around him.

He let out a grunt and willed his body forward, regretting every step he took away from home. The scent of Iselia was but a distant memory to him; he regretted partaking in a fruitless quest to collect the Exspheres of the fused worlds. With his chafed lips he muttered curses to the peoples of the world for being to stubborn, for being too greedy with their power. They held the key, he mulled, that may release them from the evils that came with those accursed gems. But no, they did not want to lose anything that could possibly give them dominance over others. He spat into the frigid drifts, at the faults of the very people he swore to enlighten and save.

Yet, instead of letting out the liquid insult, it seemed the ground bent in favor of the people, sending the swordsman to tumble sloppily into an agonizingly bright white drift. There, the pained fingers of winter closed his eyes and stole the last of his warmth away. As his vision blurred and faded, he could see nothing but white and grey. As he let out his final sigh, he thought he saw a flash of gold and a sliver of a feather.

To Lloyd Irving, the only angel he knew rose to heaven.

He awakened with a sharp roar, his body drenched with sweat and chest pumping in and out as he gasped for a respite. He felt his chest and head, then the sudden pain of a thousand arrows piercing his face shot him and he collapsed onto the unknown bed he had lain in for who knew how long. His arms and legs still felt slightly numb, but at least the warmth of the nameless room calmed him down somewhat. He absorbed the faint scent of hardwood and the ashen flavor of a fire burning somewhere nearby. He propped himself up slightly, just enough so that the dizziness wouldn't affect him, and saw all of his clothes hanging just near the fire place. For now, he cared little if he was naked or not. What he wanted was food.

On cue, the room door opened and the strong scent of ginger emanated from the unseen kitchen as well as a feminine sigh as she struggled to get the tray balanced. He gazed even more intently as a tiny shock of blonde hair flashed before his eyes and the seeming hint of a white and blue outfit teased his memories. His heart pounded painfully in his ears and he felt too close to passing out to care, but he had to know just who this unknown caretaker was.

It was if a tower was built, but suddenly vanished just as the final shingle of its roof was about to be cemented in; that was what Lloyd felt. No, it wasn't really her. It was someone else, but she was unsettlingly too similar for comfort. Her hair was the same length, texture and had the same sheen as her's. She walked a tad clumsily, and flashed him a haunting grin of reassurance that only the girl he could barely remember could ever produce. She strolled toward him, both hands occupied with the tray and set it down on a small end table next to the bed and spoke.

"It's chicken soup with a little bit of ginger. It's really good for warming people up!" She gave him yet another kindly smile before quietly walking away and shutting the door behind her.

It was too close to his heart. The way this girl looked, the way she walked and talked… The way she smiled… He felt a single streak of warmth crawl down his weather-beaten face, which was the last place where she had left her mark for him far too long ago.

Lloyd never did eat that soup.

Late the next morning, he still felt sick but he already found himself strapping on his boots and clothes long before lunch time came around. He wanted to leave before she came back again, before the pains of the heart would entangle him. He took his mind off things by looking outside while adjusting his sword sheaths. He realized that he was in Flanoir. It was a rare occasion that a sunny day would ever arrive in the snowy city, but he saw that in spite of the city's snowy beauty, the light reflecting off the icicles and drifts shown just as beautifully as any jewel on a crown. He managed a tiny smile through his hardened face. He turned around, but that simple turn of his feet threw him into a mild round of dizziness.

When the door opened, he let out an indistinguishable curse as he sat himself down on the bed. It was that girl again, now decked out in her snow gear. She held a small bowl with rice and some greens scattered in it as well as a small mug of sorts. She seemed to be as cheerful as always.

"Hey, since when did you get dressed?" She asked, half laughing and placed the tray on the end table.

"Just now," he said tersely. He eyed the food cautiously and sat the bowl on his lap and took the fork into his right hand. He looked reluctantly at the girl, who sat in front of him, eyes upturned in approval of his eating.

She kept staring at him as he ate, her eternally deep, blue eyes seemingly scanning his every move, keeping note of every aspect about him. He kept his head low in order to keep his eyes focused on his food, for surely if he looked at her, he'd drown himself in his tears. He tested her, eating painfully slow, but he could see no bit of impatience or restlessness from her, as if he was a soul meant to be watched over. Only angels would even try to peer so deeply into my soul, he wanted to say, but the only sound coming from his mouth was the sound of the rice grinding in the back of his mouth. He eventually ate it all and returned the bowl, reaching for the mug at the same time. It was warm, and that surprised him.

"An old friend taught me to appreciate what it felt like to feel warmth, even if it did come from a cup of coffee," she mused, eyes looking upward searching heaven for the memory. She let off a tiny curl of a smile on her lips when she found it.

Lloyd stared into the brown liquid and gasped at the sight of his face reflecting back. He could only vaguely recall his face from the last time he looked at himself, at a small pond near a town. That was the place where lost her. He could only remember the contorted folds of his forehead, reddened eyes and the frequent raindrops that marred the reflecting pool. All he could see now was a face of defeat, of tired, baggy eyes, a face that lost its faith in everything. He knew that he looked much older than he actually was. The problem was he felt as old as he looked.

The girl stood up and picked up the bowl, leaving the tray and said, "You're really strong to even have gotten up especially since the doctor found you stranded in that storm two days ago. He said you would have had pneumonia or something, but I'm really surprised! I still think you should stay in bed, though. You don't even need a doctor to understand that, so take it easy and go to sleep, all right?"

Lloyd turned his head up just to see her back as she crossed the tiny room towards the door, silently closing it. And he just sat there, staring at the door, feeling the coffee grow cold in his hands until his eyelids fell. The weakness of his body told him to stay, even though his mind raced in endless circles.


	2. She Who hath a Secret

Part 2 Revised (Watch)

It was snowing outside. Even in his drowsy state, how could hear the sigh of a dying snowflake pounding against his trained ears. It was these times that Lloyd regretted honing his senses so much that even the littlest sounds felt like thunder ripping through him. He felt the starched covers of the bed on his bare chest and back and a hint of disinfectant wafting into his nose from the air.

His eyes were still half-closed. Peering through the narrow slit of his lids, he viewed the cuckoo clock hanging over the door. It was late morning, nearly an hour before noon. Suddenly, a loud, dull thud immediately shook him out of his daze. His head spun left and his eyes darted on the crash. It was that girl, and she'd tripped face down onto the wooden floor. Over what she tripped on, not even she knew, but Lloyd, without thought, rushed over to her and propped her up to her knees. He felt strange doing this, being in close contact with another person. It was all a blur to him, nothing more than some instinctual reaction.

One good look at her, though, and he saw her smiling, relatively uninjured with a blush on her face. She was okay, except for a tiny drop of red splashing onto her immaculately white nurse uniform. Mindlessly, he took his thumb and gently rubbed away the blood dripping from her nose, helping her up as he did it.

"Um… Are you okay?" he asked. He realized that his right hand had been resting on her shoulder for the whole time, a tangle of her soft, golden hair trapped underneath his fingers. He let go tentatively and let the hand fall to his side, though he still kept the sensation of her still resonate in his palms.

"I should be the one asking you if you're okay! Thanks," she replied. Making her way to a small wash basin, she took out a small cloth and wet it. She dabbed the stain away.

Lloyd stood stiffly, observing her careful movements at removing the blood from her clothes. Even when she was cleaning herself up, albeit it was merely a drop or two of blood, she still had a tiny smile as she did it. She seemed nearly oblivious to her pain and kept on cleaning; her nose even started to let off a little more blood. She sniffled a bit and dabbed her nose with the clean side of the cloth. Far less pained, Lloyd's mind conjured images of the angel he'd known long ago. Mind calmed from the long hours of recovery, he focused his thoughts on his caretaker, the girl who appeared too much like a shadow of the risen angel he'd had his heart for, but could never be. She could never replace her, no matter how much she reminded him of her.

She was probably still alive somewhere, but as things turned out he never found her again, even after he spent months looking for her. He had forgotten what he'd been looking for. He felt distraught, of course, yet the hollowness of the missing memory seemed to have little importance to the quest at hand.

She felt his eyes on her, for she blushed when she met his gaze and looked away. She was a very beautiful, kind girl, he thought. It was little wonder that he would think that she'd be another angel, but his heart was such that it would not be won over so easily by a mere look. Ever since that time when he lost her, all that he'd felt and known was rejection, a dearth of any sort of warmness towards him. People had not known what he and his friends had done to save their lives and the life of the world itself, as they saw the fusion of the worlds as a matter of inconvenience, as entire regions were reformed and places that were and were not became and disappeared. This was what brought death upon his faith on all people, and he learned never to expect anything from anyone. Now, here was this girl, seemingly oblivious to the ubiquitous hatred of him all around her, it would be little wonder that her pure, sincere smile would be the chisel that would strike at his weather-beaten stone heart.

She smoothed herself out and walked towards him, taking his arm along the way and moving him towards his bed. Her grip was not restraining, it didn't feel like she was moving him, rather, it seemed she was moving with him. He sat down and wordlessly nodded in thanks. She smiled in return, hesitating to leave his side.

"Don't mind me for saying this, but you do remind me of someone I met before," Lloyd said, moving himself under the blankets.

She let off a tiny giggle, "I do?"

"Yeah. A girl I knew a long time ago… But she's gone now. I never found out what happened to her," Lloyd replied, eyes moving distantly to the window.

"Ah…" she said. She gazed at her hands, but quickly met his eyes and said, "Well, I'll be back to check up on you in a few hours. After today, I guess you won't need to be here, anymore."

Before he could respond with thanks, the door clicked shut.

When Lloyd received the okay about his health, he thought no more of his fruitless Exsphere journey. He would go on, thank the nurse girl and the doctor, and be on his way. Where he would go and what he would do, he thought little of but he had hoped that someday, he'd gain his old memories back. Whenever he slept, he felt more and more of him became lost in that mental black hole. He felt he needed to be alone, in solitude, in order to get his old self back. Maybe, he thought, that would bring back the memories of that girl once again. He set his mesh armor on and draped his freshly washed red clothes over them. He strapped on his boots, secured his weapons and belongings, and, with a final check of his appearance, he made his way for the door.

As he opened it, he saw the nurse girl again, bundled up in a snow jacket with a sizeable rucksack on her back. Lloyd was about to set his bag down and give her the payment, when she suddenly dashed over and sealed his mouth with her hands, forcing him around a bend and behind the receptionist's desk. He gasped, surprised at her strength, as she managed force him onto the floor. She looked worried, an expression unfitting for a face that was usually serenely cheerful.

"Listen, there's no time to explain. Just get over to the other room and climb out of the window. I'll meet you inside the Church of Martel, got it?" the nurse huffed. She pulled him up and rushed him through the door amid his protests of "What the…?" and "Why?" She immediately shut the door, sending him stumbling over a loose plank of wood in the dim room.

Lloyd recovered and immediately walked over to the door, demanding an explanation. The nurse only replied, "Hurry up and get to the church!" She clicked something on the other side of the door, locking it.

He grunted in frustration and searched the room, heaving his backpack. He scanned the room and listened as the nurse opened the main door of the clinic, letting in an uncountable amount of angry voices. The nurse argued back at them, but their verbal battle was muffled by the rattling of the only window from the night's bluster. He clambered over the crates conveniently stacked beneath it and lifted it open easily. He turned back only to hear a loud crash and someone yelling. That was warning enough for him to roll out of the window and land back first into the snow mound beneath.

He kicked up off his back and onto his feet and took a quick look at his surroundings. It was evening and another one of Flanoir's famous snowstorms roared through the streets. He quickly hid in a small crowd of people gathering outside a store and wiggled his way through the maze, checking back at the clinic with the corner of his eye. Surely enough, the door to the outside was open and an unrecognizable dark-clothed female figure stood guard outside the door. He tried to get a better look through the bobbing heads and the incessant snows, but everything whited out as the natural to and fro of the crowd pushed him out. He hid his face in his white scarf and shuffled as quickly as he could, dodging people and snow mounds as he made his way for the Church.

If there was anything from his journey that was still welcoming, it was the sanctuary he felt in the Church of Martel. While the building itself was unchanged, the people attending the service going on were still praying as fervently as ever, even though the truth behind the whole institution had been nothing but a lie. He remembered the Giant Tree and Martel's words to keep the tree alive by having people continue to live and work together, and he kept his word as he traveled around. Some things he hid, but to see the kind of faith the people brought out with them and to others calmed his mind a bit. He settled into a back pew and listened to the clergyman go through the motions of the prayers and hymns and relaxed.

He idly stared at the different sculptures of previous Chosen and depictions of Martel and others from the stories of the Church. So much of Martel's life, he realized, was wrought in condemnation by others, yet she still kept on being kind to others. He chuckled at himself. Had he been on the road so long that he had forgotten that very fact that was drilled into his head from childhood and was solidified even further when he learned of the secrets of the Martel Church? He wanted to hit his head on the pew just for being so dense! He muffled a chuckle, closing his eyes in silent meditation, just as the priest requested the congregation to do.

It wasn't long until the nurse arrived as quietly as a spring's breeze. Lloyd awakened from his half slumber during the meditation when he felt the slight groan of the wood from the added being sitting on it. The nurse's cheeks were bright red and a small layer of snow-dust flaked off her coat onto the floor as she patted herself. She sighed, slouching into the warm seat. She whispered, "Sorry I'm late and for making you rush out of there, but it was something very important I had to deal with." She silently plopped her bag on the floor.

"I would say 'It's okay,' but what I want to know is why I have to climb out of a window in the middle of a snowstorm?" Lloyd replied, sending the nurse into a slight blush.

"I'm sorry. I'll tell you everything once the service is over, okay? I think it would be good if we both prayed, don't you think?"

Lloyd agreed.

They exited the Church and she willed him towards her tiny rented room in a home nearby. She had a moderate amount of belongings, supplies to keep her going along with countless trinkets. Other than that, Lloyd noticed, was that she kept a corner of her room bare, with a wooden post marred by chips and was even reattached in a few places. They were clean cuts made by an object that would have traveled very fast with a very fine edge. He would have to expect the unexpected.

Though the room was well lit by the outside lights, she lit a candle and shut her curtains, telling him to sit down. They both sat across from each other on her only wooden table. "I'm really sorry, but would you mind keeping your voice low?" She whispered. "Sure. But before we begin, what's your name? I never found out."

"Oh, sorry. My name's Col… Colleen. My name's Colleen," she replied. She scanned the room, eyes narrowed. Lloyd looked at her expectantly and sniffed to grab her attention. "Sorry! Okay, before we begin let me tell you that no matter what happens I am not going to leave your side. That's a promise."

"Okay…" He hardly knew her, yet she hung on to him like a magnet to iron. How could he trust her so easily? She may have heard about his traveling to get and destroy every single last Exsphere. If he trusted her, he imagined, he could end up in some interrogation room with a bunch of suits blasting him with questions and who knows what else. Exspheres were as prized as a military secret, especially in the new world!

"And another thing: I've heard all about your travels and how you want to get rid of all the Exspheres in the world. I want to help you. I want to help you so that we can get rid of those things. I know how they're made and what gives them their power, so, Lloyd, I have to go with you!" Colleen's pleading eyes looked as if she could cry twenty rivers, but she held them back. Her lips were trembling and she hit the table so hard that the candle nearly toppled over. "Please, Lloyd, just trust me! I can help you!"

"What? Colleen, I--"

A loud, dull _bam-bam_ rang from her door. Colleen reflexively pushed Lloyd down and shushed him. She stood straight up and ripped off her coat, outer clothes and snow boots leaving a rumpled pile in front of him. Her socked feet jogged their way to the door. Colleen answered it with a cheerful, yet sleepy sounding, "Hi Lauren."

"Sleeping, huh? Sorry about that. Hey, listen, we're gonna go on tomorrow's ship out to Royal Academy, and then we're going to head for Meltokio. You up for it or are you working?" Lauren asked.

"Tomorrow would be great! Oh, and would it be okay if I brought a friend, too?"

"Yup, of course. We'll be at the Eastern Dock at around nine in the morning. The boat leaves at half past. Good thing you're sleeping now, you'll be up early. I'll go sleep now, too, so good night, Col." Lauren yawned as her heavy footsteps reverberated away.

"See you tomorrow, Lauren!" Colleen called out cheerfully, closing the door carefully. She turned back and whispered, "Lloyd! It's okay, it wasn't them."

Lloyd hesitated to stand up. He tilted his head upwards just so there was no chance that he'd see her… indecently. She giggled when he did that, taking two fingers and pulling his chin down, revealing that she was wearing a full-bodied night gown.

"You think of everything," he laughed, echoing his thoughts. "But Colleen, I can't just take you along. Besides, you'll grow sick of it after the first stop. I don't know if I'm even going to finish the job."

Colleen plopped onto her bed and sighed. "Long ago, I told myself that I would stop running away, because in the end I knew that people would die. I also did it for myself, just so I prove to myself that I truly was worth something. And you know what? It worked."

Lloyd felt the pangs of guilt starting to gnaw at him. He used to say those things a lot, but he wished the days would feel as easy as it did back then. He wanted that idealism back, that veil that if he tried hard enough, he could do anything. He wanted to be back on that mission to save everyone just for the sake of goodness, to lift the spirits of others when they felt their lowest. He looked at her looking at him, waiting for his answer. Maybe it was his longing for his hope. Maybe it was that this girl reminded him of the one he lost so long ago. Or maybe it was just because he was lonely. Whatever it was, Lloyd agreed. "All right, Colleen, you convinced me to keep going and to keep my spirits high, and I'm going to rely on you to keep it that way. I won't promise you that I'll do the same, though."

Colleen leapt up and squeezed him against her as tight as she could. He found it strange that she was so ecstatic, and pulled her away from him and held her at arm's length. She was beaming. Lloyd let off an uncertain chuckle, not knowing how he would say it, so he decided to say it bluntly. "Colleen, seriously, if you ever, by some random act of chance, ever do betray me, you will never find me by your side again. I'm sorry I had to say it, but I can't trust anyone so easily anymore."

Colleen visibly shivered, but nodded. He nodded back. "I was serious when I said I would never leave your side, too." She said sternly. She faced away, her voice nearing that to a near mumble, continued, "I just hope that you find out who you really are before it's too late."

"Colleen?"

She smiled once again at him, folding her fingers together and exclaiming, "Oh it's nothing! Anyway, it's time to go to bed. We gotta be on that boat early." He laughed and started removing his coat and belongings far from her view.

"By the way, where WILL I sleep," Lloyd asked, peeking from out of the corner.

The faint candlelight reflected off a mischievous smile. "The floor, of course."

"I'm already starting to like this adventure," Lloyd groaned.

Colette waited and waited until his snores were loud enough to rattle the icicles from her windowsill. She sat up and peeked out of her curtains, eyeing the blank streets carefully. No, they had not followed, but then again they always liked to show up in the strangest times and tonight she wondered if she made a mistake bringing him to her home.

She looked at his crookedly flat body, his drool ruining a blanket she washed the other day. No matter how accomplished a swordsman he was, he couldn't save himself from them.

She realized that he didn't know who was after him; she hadn't told him at all when she promised to. Whenever that day came when he would come to his senses and realize the just who were the ones who went after him, she knew she would have to do something drastic. Probably even worse than what they would plan to do with him.

For now, she was satisfied that he would be safe for just one more night under her watch. She was his angel after all and she'd never betray him, even at the cost of the friends who had loved them all so dearly.


	3. Hypothesis

_Now, what happened on that day when Lloyd lost Colette may as well be a mystery to you as it is to him. He has nothing but fragments of memories, all under a veil of mystery as to how it happened. The Lloyd we all knew has become little more than a wanderer who seeks his lost self, only to lose himself more and more as time passes._

_What isn't a mystery to you is his companion, Colette Brunel, is alive and well and is physically right next to him. How come Lloyd can't see it?_

_Clues are hard to find, but a hypothesis could help clear things up._

_Many months ago, Palmacosta Inn …_

Lloyd flopped sloppily down on the rebuilt inn's new cushy beds, groaning into the starched pillow, kicking off his boots and digging himself into the sheets. He had a headache, a big one, and the echoes of the same roundabout, repetitious voice played back over and over and over again in his head didn't help at all. He spun around and faced up, sputtering his pursed lips.

The room door clicked open and Colette sauntered inside. A tired look spread across her youthful face as she went over and sat on Lloyd's bed. "They said no again, didn't they?"

"Yeah. Even after we both went there yesterday and told them the whole story, the town guard's still as hard-headed as their helmets!" Lloyd muttered. He sat up and shrugged his tired shoulders.

Colette shifted over and rested her back against his chest, letting him wrap his arms around her as he rocked her from side to side. Both glad to be near each other. She sighed, he sighed and the two asked for nothing more. She grasped one of his hands and entwined her slender fingers into his, squeezing it gently. She raised her head ever so slightly just so he could hear her better and said, "Lloyd, we can't give up. Let's go back tomorrow and get those Exspheres!"

Lloyd chuckled, kissing her cheek lightly. "Giving up is the last thing I'll ever do. We're gonna keep going back until they beg us to stop!"

She craned her neck over and kissed him back, planting it firmly onto his unsuspecting lips, giggling innocently as she did. He blushed, she blushed but they didn't hide it. For these two, even if they'd have to spend a lifetime collecting the Exspheres, they'd do it until the end.

_What just happened may or may not have happened at all, but the feelings and the emotions are as real as daylight itself in Lloyd's mind. He undoubtedly loved her, and she loved him and together they could have done almost anything. Built upon a foundation of years of childhood friendship, tempered through hardship and solidified with unspoken, but known feelings, such love is a rarity, but one that may as well have lasted longer than forever._

_The hypothesis continues, several days later. This time, the haze of lost and broken shards bears its razor edges…_

_Just outside Palmacosta…_

Lloyd limped, sloppily bringing his swords up in a vain attempt to show that he was still ready to fight. His clothes were torn, exposing frayed mesh armor underneath his heavy red coat. The armor dripped red in places where it was cut and smoldered on the cloth covering where magic had burned through. His blades were chipped, stripped of their usual sheen and blunted so much that it would have hardly sliced anything.

Colette dragged herself up next to him, slouching over from a deep gash in her abdomen. She held her chakrams at the ready, despite one broken in half and the other bent out of shape. Her armor was exposed as well, the frayed edges of the leather that bound the broken metal chains together showing a deep canyon filled with blood. She had been lucky from that sword swipe; had she been any slower the cut would gone much deeper than simply slicing her skin.

Their attackers stood erect in front of them, their weapons lowered in a display of mockery. Their faces were well hidden by heavy iron helmets and thick, but maneuverable body armor, even though one of them seemed much too small to even be wearing such a heavy load. It had been raining through their entire standoff; a sea storm had been brewing for quite some time, forcing the Palmacostan citizens to evacuate, for their city had not yet been up to the challenge of facing storms during the rebuilding process. During all the hurrying, these three unknown attackers stopped Lloyd and Colette, conveniently catching them off-guard.

The fighter one with the sword and shield spoke, "Give it up, Lloyd. You're already beaten. You can't even cut grass with those swords anymore." His voice sounded sophisticated, yet had an uncanny hint of being something that wasn't really there.

"Go back home and never come out. If you don't, we'll always find you because even the shadows are against you," the other armored fighter spoke. She was female and a powerful speaker, her voice evoking the storm's thunder to agree with her demands. She had two small, but wide-bladed daggers resting at both sides of her hips, one of which chopped Colette's chakram in half.

"Ngh… Why?! This doesn't make any sense!" Lloyd roared back, gritting his teeth. He tasted the salty blood in the back of his throat, but gulped it back down.

"Because, Lloyd, you're more a danger than any of us had ever realized."

Lloyd and Colette looked at the third, smaller armored fighter. Whoever it was held a mace, with a small curved blade on one of the edges for cutting instead of bashing. But it wasn't the third who spoke.

Suddenly, a sharp directed gust of wind whizzed past Lloyd, with a loud, dull thud of something soft being hit. Time stopped, as his vision tunneled in and focused on the frazzled locks of blonde hair and mud-stained white clothes being flung like a rag doll into the dirt.

"COLETTE!!" Lloyd dropped all sense of self, of the fighting and made for a mad rush toward her. He had only been a step away when something hit him, sending him crashing into the mud. It was as if a huge stone slab flew in and struck his face.

What happened next he couldn't tell: a tip of a blade at his throat, muffled calls for help, thunder crashing, rain falling, footsteps, dripping mud, but nothing came more clearly to his memory before he faded: a rippling wave of blue hair.

When Lloyd came to, he had been lying in a single bed at the inn he had been before the storm. This time it felt a bit different, the sheets somehow stiffer than the bed he had last time. He sat up, and felt pain, stiffness, soreness, everything that said 'You shouldn't have sat up.'

He felt his chest tightly bound with white bandages. He had trouble breathing, as his nose was bound as stiff as the bedpost. He heaved and panted against the wrappings until he felt weak enough to fall back into his pillow.

He heard someone else step into the room and his excited eyes shot towards there. A large-framed man entered, carrying a small satchel with him and Lloyd sank into his covers. He heard him pull up a stool and sit next to his bed.

"Ah, I see. Very good work. I don't know how you got those wounds, but you were lucky you only suffered a broken nose and some minor lacerations," the doctor stated, in a tone that could only be described as professionally soothing.

"T-thanks, doctor," Lloyd panted.

"What's your name?"

"Lloyd Irving."

"I see, all right."

The doctor stood up and put the stool aside. Lloyd suddenly said aloud, "Are there any other injured like me?"

"Just a few with a cut or two, but nothing serious like you. Luckily, no one's dead either," the doctor mentioned tersely. He shut the door and softly strolled down the hallway.

Lloyd sat there, in cold stillness, not at the doctor's words, but that he forgot why he asked.

_This is but a hypothesis; there may have been a fight, there might not. There may have been a storm or none at all. It may have been outside Palmacosta, or it just as likely may have been outside Iselia._

_What is true, what may be true, and what is a lie all lay dormant in Lloyd's mind. What you infer is all up to you, for this is one theory of the loss of Colette and the fall of Lloyd._

_In all guesses, hypotheses and theories, however, there are elements of truth. And the truth behind his fall all lie in what can be deciphered in his memories._


End file.
